


Just Like Mom

by skymageariel



Series: 31 days of The Dragon Prince [10]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Modern AU, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26931838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skymageariel/pseuds/skymageariel
Summary: The story of how Callum chose the instrument he wanted to play.
Relationships: Harrai (The Dragon Prince)
Series: 31 days of The Dragon Prince [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946767
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Just Like Mom

When Callum was six years old, his little brother Ezran was only two. Ez could barely walk, knees giving out at any random moment so he’d collapse like toddlers do, only to get back up again and keep running. Ezran loved shiny things. Anything that sparkled, shimmered and shined, he gravitated towards like a magnet. His room was full of iridescent, multicolored toys, walls decorated with canvases covered in sparkling paint (painted by Callum with help from Sarai), and window film that created rainbows when the sun came through. 

It was around this time, in second grade, when Harrow decided Callum was to choose an instrument. Harrow wanted to make this a special decision, one that Callum would make with complete freedom. Ever since his mother passed, Callum had been even shyer and quieter than before. Harrow could only hope that choosing an instrument would help bring back some of that confidence that Callum had lost. 

“Callum,” Harrow smiled, stepping into his son’s room. “We’re taking a fun trip today!” He came closer, kneeling down beside him. Callum was playing with trains, pushing them back and forth on the tracks, making a little  _ Choo-choo!  _ sound every minute or so.

“Where are we going?” Callum asked. “Can I bring my train?”

“Of course you can,” Harrow replied. “And we’re going to the music store. I think it’s time you learned how to play some music.”

“Like mom?”

“Yeah,” Harrow breathed. “Like mom.”

Sarai had been a wonderful singer. Harrow remembered how every Christmas, she and Callum would bake sugar cookies in their kitchen, the sweet scent of dough filling the whole house. They’d play the same christmas songs every year, and as the years went on, Callum began to learn the words. They’d sing together.  _ Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling too… _ Her voice was a melody that Harrow would never forget.  _ C’mon, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you!  _ Harrow remembered Callum dancing on her feet, laughing as she moved them across the kitchen while the cookies baked. When she sang, she danced. And when she danced, so did the walls around her. If these walls could talk, if these walls could remember, they’d remember the joy Sarai had been for everyone. And they’d remember the world turning grey when she’d gone. 

Callum leaned out of his seat to watch out the window as they drove. Ezran had fallen asleep in his seat, snoring lightly. The trees went by, taller than the sky itself, filling the world with a deep emerald green. Callum watched in awe, jaw dropped as the pines all around grew bigger and wider.

“They’re giant Christmas trees!” he smiled. “Can we take one home in December?”

“These trees belong to the state,” Harrow explained, smiling at Callum through the rear view mirror. “These trees belong to everyone. If we took them home, people would miss them.”

“Oh,” Callum said. “Can we help the state decorate them?”

“I’ll ask for you,” Harrow chuckled. “I’m sure they’d love the help.”

As they drove, wilderness slowly turned to concrete. Buildings erupted from the ground as they drove towards the heart of Seattle. There was a music shop run by an old friend in the center of the city- a shop so small, it didn’t show up on any maps. Yet musicians in the city all knew of it. This was the go-to place to replace a cello bridge, for a new clarinet reed, for a good set of drumsticks that wouldn’t splinter. Sarai had frequented the establishment. Every once in a while, she’d make it through a vocal studies book and need a new one, or she’d need a new box of rosin for her violin. 

When Harrow walked in, baby Ezran in his arm and Callum holding his hand, the bell chimed and the shopkeeper behind the counter grinned.

“Harrow!” he laughed, coming out from behind the counter. “It’s so good to see you and your boys again.”

“It’s great to see you too, Allen.” Harrow smiled, looking around the shop. Instruments hung from every wall. “We’re here to find Callum an instrument to play.”

“Ah, yes!” Allen kneeled down to meet Callum’s eye, though he hid behind Harrow’s knee. “A musician, just like your mother. Please, take all the time you need.”

Harrow studied the shop; It had been too long since he’d last been. Guitars to the south, acoustic and electric alike. Violins, violas, and cellos were on display behind the counter. Brass instruments- trumpets, tubas, trombones- hung on the wall beside the window. But in the window were the woodwinds. The sun set, glinting off a particular flute that hung behind the glass. Ezran saw the sparkling light, how the flute seemed to glow, and reached out to it. Harrow put the boy on the ground, watching him wobble his way towards the flute on display, smiling at the sparkling metal. When Callum saw Ezran, he grinned, coming closer to the flute as well. Harrow pushed down one of the keys, and the reflections of light flew around the room. Ezran laughed in delight, and Callum knew what instrument he wanted to play.

“I want this one,” he said, pointing to the silver flute. 

“You heard the boy,” Harrow said to Allen. “We’ll take the flute.” Allen came over to the display, taking it off it’s hook and handing it to Callum. 

“Do you like this one?” he asked. Callum nodded, reaching out to press the keys. 

After the flute was paid for, Allen patiently taught Callum how to handle it, showing him where it came apart, and how to put it back together. He taught Callum how to place it in the case, saying that it was like a puzzle. 

“Each part of the flute has its own spot in its case,” he said. “A place for everything, everything in its place.” Callum pressed each part into the matching grooves in the velvet lining. Allen showed him how to clean it, how to run the fabric through the instrument to get out the dust and gunk. 

When all was said and done, Allen gave Harrow a few books for learning, and a number to a great flute teacher. Callum carried the case out of the store with both hands, smiling wide.

In the car, on the way home, Callum hugged the case, saying “I’m going to be a musician, just like mom.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi! sorry this is so short lmao- anyone else friggin whiplashed from the ama because i am... thanks for reading !


End file.
